Another day

  • My own little fly lady

    The other night I’d gotten Caroline out of the bathtub and sent her into her room to put on her pajamas. I was busy whipping up a nutritious dinner of sloppy joes and Ore Ida fries (I know. Pitiful.) so it took me a few minutes to realize she’d been in her room for a really long time.

    I’m always a little suspicious when too much time passes without her wandering into the kitchen and delivering a thirty minute monologue without taking a breath.

    About the time I started to wonder if she’d packed her bags and left for college, she walked into the kitchen and asked if she could have two pieces of paper. I handed them to her and she headed back to her room with the paper and some Scotch tape she’d managed to find in the junk drawer.

    A few minutes later it was time for dinner and I walked into her room to let her know she needed to come eat only to discover that she was in the midst of an organizational frenzy. She’d arranged all her shoes neatly in her closet. She’d put all her hair accessories in a plastic container. She’d folded her clothes and put them away. She’d put the lid on her laundry hamper.

    I couldn’t believe what I was seeing so I asked, “Baby, what are you doing?”

    She said, “I’m organizing all my stuff. It was one of my goals for the summer and I’ve finished it already.”

    Then she handed me a stack of headbands and said, “Will you please get me a Ziploc bag to put these in?”

    “Well, I think they’ll be fine just loose in your drawer.”

    I also think that aliens have invaded your body.

    “No, Mama. I really prefer a Ziploc. It keeps things neater.”

    Dazed and confused, I went to retrieve a gallon-size Ziploc from the kitchen. I’m usually stingy with the gallon-size Ziplocs but I felt like she’d earned it.

    (Also, what has happened to me that I even think about things like our usage of Ziplocs? Next thing you know I’ll be running my foil through the dishwasher to get a second use.)

    When I returned she thanked me and said she needed to show me something. (What? That the real Caroline is tied up in the closet?) She walked over to her chair and pointed out two shoeboxes, neatly labeled and stacked on top of each other. This is what they looked like.

    And this is what was inside.

    Those are “shoos” that are missing their mate and they now reside in a labeled shoebox. Of course their mate is probably somewhere under her bed, but she was so proud of her organizational system that I didn’t want to screw it up by finding the matching shoo.

    As we sat down to our nutritious dinner I told her how proud I was of her efforts and how great it was that she’d already achieved one of her summer goals. She looked at me and said, “What I’d really like to do is clean out the refrigerator. Can that be one of my new goals?”

    Of course I said yes. Because I believe there’s nothing more important than helping my child achieve her dreams.

    And if she thinks she can get our refrigerator clean, she’s clearly reaching for the stars.

  • The people who live inside the t.v.

    I don’t even know what to say. I have just watched four hours of television.

    Four hours.

    (Although technically it was more like three hours after we fast-forwarded through all the commercials)

    I realized last week that I was going to have some serious conflicts of interest in the television department between the two hour season finale of Chuck and the two hour series finale of 24. And that’s before I realized that it was also the same night as the season premiere of The Bachelorette.

    (I know I said I’d never watch it again but let’s not even pretend like I meant it. I am powerless to resist The Bachelor franchise in all its forms)

    The problem is (and I realize this ranks at the top of a first world problem list) that all the shows were on at the same time and our DVR can only record two shows. We are living like a bunch of savages.

    So I’ve had to remind myself that it’s a viewing marathon, not a sprint. I’m going to have to watch The Bachelorette online later today because Chuck and 24 won out last night. Mainly because they both feature various weaponry which means that P and I watch them together. And now I’m so keyed up from all the suspense that I may not sleep for days.

    But I have a few thoughts on both shows.

    We’ll start with Chuck.

    1. I adored every minute of the finale even though it stressed me out.

    2. I could watch The Jeffster’s Blaze of Glory video about 106 more times.

    3. Dude, they blew up the Buy More.

    And 24.

    1. Oh my word. Is there anyone ever who has had eight worse days in his life than Jack Bauer?

    2. I’m so concerned that no one ever found the body of that parole officer from Arkansas.

    3. I loved how terrified Charles Logan was of Jack Bauer. I mean, it’s not like he hasn’t faced danger before considering his wife stabbed him with a kiwi knife in Season 4.

    4. I wish I were as tough as Jack. (He bit off someone’s ear. That’s hardcore) I also wish we wore the same size jeans because if his waist is bigger than 23 inches I’ll eat my hat.

    5. I thought Dalia Hassan’s eye makeup was beautiful, but I suspect that really wasn’t mean to be a pivotal plot point.

    So what about you? Did you watch Chuck? Or 24? Or The Bachelorette?

    I can’t even think about the fact that I have Tori and Dean waiting for me on the DVR and the American Idol finale is on tonight. It’s like the feast before the summer television famine, an embarrassment of television riches.

  • I’d like to go to there

    I’m sure you’ve all been on pins and needles this weekend wanting to know how the hair invention turned out. I’ll be honest, it was a little bit poufy but she had some seriously good waves going on. However, she decided she wanted to pull the whole thing back in a ponytail and I didn’t argue with her because, frankly, who has the strength?

    It didn’t help that we’d spent every night last week studying for her spelling test which included the words “to”, “too”, and “two”, along with “they’re”, “their”, and “there”. It’s a wonder that I lived to tell about it. “They’re”, “their” and “there” almost ushered me straight to the seventh circle of hell. Especially because it’s not easy to teach a child who thinks she knows everything, yet continues to write “They’re books were over their.”

    At one point I tried to explain that “there” is a place like “here” is a place and the word “here” is in the word “there”. And I think I confused even myself. This is why I don’t homeschool. Well, that and the fact that most colleges require a knowledge of math beyond basic addition and subtraction. Oh, and my heartfelt desire to never have to experience the periodic table of elements ever again even though it’s been so useful throughout my adult life.

    Finally, I told Caroline to write the words in a sentence. She looked at me and said, “You mean like, WHY DON’T YOU GO OVER THERE AND LEAVE ME ALONE AND BLAH, BLAH, BLAH?” As soon as it came out of her mouth, she realized what she’d just done and was quick to let me know that she wasn’t referring to me, she was just using the word in a sentence.

    I think it’s safe to say that we were both frustrated. The good news is that she ended up getting all her words right and was rewarded with a new pack of Silly Bands and thank goodness for that because now she has enough to wear them the length of her entire forearm.

    After school on Friday we had our last Brownie meeting followed by our last soccer game. I’ve never been a big fan of Brownies (even when I was one back in 1978) but didn’t want to deprive Caroline of the whole Brownie experience because she might be more social than her mother and want to be a part of a big group that has an honor code and wears matching brown poly-blend vests and causes family members to gain ten extra pounds in the month of February due to buying Girl Scout cookies in bulk. But on the way to the meeting on Friday, I asked if she wanted to do Brownies again next year and she replied, “There has got to be something more fun to do than Brownies.”

    Amen, sister. You can’t fight DNA.

    Which may also explain her stellar use of “blah, blah, blah” and sarcasm.

  • I believe in wireless technology

    I am so tired. My personal theory on the tiredness is that P and I have been watching way too many war movies and I’m suffering from some type of television-induced post traumatic stress syndrome. And Monday night’s episode of 24 certainly didn’t help matters.

    But before I go crawl into bed, I have a question.

    Why did P decide that the best place to dispose of all his unused wire coat hangers was on top of my laundry basket?

    Especially when he knows that the only things I hate worse than wire hangers are drivers who don’t properly signal when they’re making a left turn and cheeses that smell really bad?

    It’s like he doesn’t know me at all.

    ______________________________________________________

    The winners of the Words That Rhyme With Orange CD giveaway have been posted over here.

    And there’s a new Tropicana Rewards post up with a chance to win a $50.00 gift card over here.

  • But the tots were delicious (at least that’s what I heard)

    Last Thursday night P and I watched the weather because it’s what we do. We even record the 6:00 evening news on the DVR specifically to watch the weather forecast so that we can watch it again on the 10:00 news and see if the forecast is the same as it was four hours earlier. The phrase you’re looking for is BIG NERDS.

    But nothing really makes us happier than the opportunity to mock the weatherman. Which is why we were so happy when Thursday’s forecast (at both 6 and 10 o’clock) called for rain sometime between Friday and Tuesday. There is no other profession in the world that allows you to be that completely and totally vague.

    “We project that fourth quarter earnings will be somewhere between four and sixty percent.”

    So it should have come as no surprise that it was pouring down rain when we woke up Friday morning and continued to rain all day long. And it should come as even less as a surprise that I chose to spend most of the day curled up on the couch taking a nap. It was delightful. There was even thunder and lightning which, combined with torrential rain, is the weather trifecta for a big wanna be meteorologist nerd like myself.

    And that’s the most exciting thing I have to report from the weekend.

    Except for a little incident at Sonic on Sunday afternoon.

    Y’all know I love the Sonic. I do. I love the Sonic.

    After church on Sunday Caroline wanted to go swim at Mimi and Bops’ house even though it was completely cloudy outside and the pool was somewhere between I-would-rather-die and are-you-insane degrees. We called Gulley to see if Jackson wanted to join Caroline in her attempt to become a member of the Polar Bear Club and he said yes because kids are completely immune to things like frigid temperatures and the fact that swimming is more enjoyable when there is actually sunlight.

    So I told Gulley we’d come pick him up right after we made an emergency stop at Sonic because I was completely out of Diet Coke. (Yes. I know I quit Diet Coke about a year ago. But sometimes a girl needs a Diet Coke. I try to practice moderation.) Caroline wanted a cherry slush, Jackson requested that we get him a Dr. Pepper and I decided to order some tater tots with a side of mozzarella sticks. For the children. I’m always thinking of the children.

    I pulled up to the window to pay and swiped my debit card through that little debit card thing. The guy handed me our order and then asked me if the debit card thing showed that the purchase was approved. I told him it didn’t show anything, so he asked for my card and said he’d run it through himself.

    Eight minutes later ( I KID YOU NOT BECAUSE I WAS LOOKING AT THE CLOCK IN MY CAR) he still had my debit card and had offered no explanation as to what was going on. Finally, he slid open the window and said, “Our credit card machine is down. I’m going to need you to pull over to the side and wait until it starts working again.”

    “Umm. Do you have any idea when that’s going to be?”

    “No, I have no idea. But I need you to pull over to the side and wait.”

    “Okay, here’s the thing. I have somewhere I’m supposed to be. I can’t just wait here indefinitely until you get your credit card machine to work.”

    (Granted, I don’t know that the pool at Mimi and Bops’ house really counts as somewhere I have to be. But I wasn’t entirely sure that the credit card machine wasn’t like the rain forecast and it might work anytime between now and next Thursday.)

    “Well, do you have cash?”

    “No. I don’t have cash because that’s what my debit card is for.”

    (I figured he didn’t need to hear my entire history with cash and how I don’t really trust myself to carry cash because it disappears and I can’t account for its whereabouts.)

    (P, I’m not talking about a lot of money. Just $15.00)

    “You’re just going to have to wait.”

    So in my sweetest voice I said, “Yeah, I’m going to need to talk to someone about another option because, as much as I love Sonic, I can’t really sit in your parking lot all day.”

    Finally a manager appeared at the window and told me not to worry about it. They’d comp the charges. I explained that wasn’t really necessary because I visit the Sonic anywhere between two and six times a week and would be happy to pay them the money at my next visit. He said that would be fine and we drove away.

    Caroline said, “Mama, why did he try to make us wait?”

    “Well, because their machine is broken and they wanted us to wait until it was fixed.”

    She said, “They must have not known you have an IMPATIENT GIRL in the back seat. I think they’re crazy.”

    Exactly.

    But now I feel like I have to make time to go back to Sonic later today and give them the five dollars I owe them. And maybe order some tater tots while I’m there as a way to say thank you for not making me wait in the parking lot yesterday.

    Purely unselfish reasons that have nothing at all to do with the delicious crispiness of the Sonic tater tot.

  • So this was my day

    Yesterday morning Caroline wanted to walk to school and I agreed because it is a rare morning that we’re actually ready in time to walk. It’s not that the walking takes so long as much as it is all the stopping to look at rocks or walking along the curb like it’s a balance beam. But we had plenty of time and I thought it would be a nice change from our usual morning routine of me bringing the car to a rolling stop and telling her to jump.

    Of course that was before I walked outside and realized the humidity level was hovering around 184%. I’ve been in swimming pools that didn’t feel as wet as the air. Needless to say, things did not turn out well for my hair.

    After I got home I drove over to my sister’s house to babysit my nephew, Luke. He is five months old which is right about the age that I find babies to be completely irresistible because their little thighs get all fat and they laugh at you with their little toothless grins, but they’re still content to sit and stare at a ceiling fan like it’s the best thing they’ve ever seen. And then they’re all “What is this? My foot? Oh I’m going to put it in my mouth because I can.” So it’s not really an inconvenience to spend a few hours getting a baby fix.

    While I was there I watched The Today Show. Normally, it makes me feel like I might throw my shoe through the television to watch it for any amount of time, but they were doing a segment on foods that are supposed to make your stomach flatter and I was intrigued because who doesn’t want to know more about that? I will share my newfound flat stomach knowledge with you because I am all about sharing some science.

    According to some girl on the show (I can’t remember her name or what qualifies her as an expert on this topic), there are a group of foods called MUFAs. At first I was confused because I wasn’t sure what the dad from The Lion King had to do with a flat stomach, but apparently it’s an acronym that stands for monounsaturated fatty acids. New research shows that eating MUFA foods can help you burn fat in your stomach area. And you know what the MUFAs are? Olive oil, nuts and seeds, avocados, olives, and dark chocolate. Are you kidding me? I EAT ALL THOSE THINGS. Why isn’t my stomach flatter? Is the science flawed or is it that I eat my avocados on top of tortilla chips covered in beans and cheese and my dark chocolate in syrup form over a bowl of ice cream? It’s hard to know.

    Later in the day, the Cheetah Girls had our last practice of the season. I think they’ve really grown over the course of the season because they actually listened to P for at least three seconds before they all began twirling in circles or doing cartwheels while he tried to explain that the object of soccer is to score goals.

    And then we came home, ate dinner, and got ready for bed.

    As I tucked Caroline in, she reminded me that her library book is due tomorrow and we hadn’t read it yet because we’re in the middle of another book right now. She asked if I’d read it to her before bed, so I went in the kitchen and grabbed Shark and Dolphin by Rod Theodorou and Carole Telford. We snuggled in together and I began to read the first page:

    “Many people think that sharks attack hundreds of people every year, but this is not true! Most species of shark are harmless. About 30 to 50 shark attacks are reported throughout the world each year. Far more people are killed by bees or in horse-riding accidents.”

    What the heck? Worst bedtime story ever. Thanks for that, Mr. Theodorou.

    In other news, we still haven’t caught the mouse. Which I find to be even more disturbing than bees or horses or why my stomach isn’t flatter considering my vast intake of avocados in the form of guacamole and chocolate in the form of anything edible.